


carry our bodies safe to shore

by catsnkooks



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Watch (Star Wars), Flashbacks, Forbidden Love, Injury Recovery, Jango Fett Needs a Hug, Kinda?, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsnkooks/pseuds/catsnkooks
Summary: At the end of the brutal war between the Death Watch and the True Mandalorians, Death Watch reigns supreme. They eliminate anyone who stands in their way of taking over Mandalore and installs the ara'novor'yaim--barring all outsiders from Mandalore. Especially their worst enemy, the Jedi.Jango Fett's luck has finally run out on him when he finds a Jedi washed up on his shore. He's never been good at keeping secrets, but he finds he's going to have to get better at it as his heart slowly warms to the Jedi he's harboring in his house.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	carry our bodies safe to shore

**Author's Note:**

> based on Tokugawa era Japan esp. the sakoku (closed country) policy
> 
> this is what happens when a fic writer gets an idea in the middle of class

Jango sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “ _Osik_.”

_This is absolutely **not** happening._

He placed his hands on his hips and glared down at the body sprawled on the sand. He took in the beige tabards and the large (quite _soaked_ ) brown cloak covering them that clearly spoke the person’s profession. If not that, then the sword clipped to his belt certainly did.

_Jetii_.

Jango sighed again and glanced around him. He was usually alone on his little harbor, but with a foreigner on his shore, he was paranoid. More than usual.

He paced around the body, arguing with himself.

_Just leave them there to die! Do you know what would happen if they found out?_

_But I can’t **do** that! They didn’t do anything but crash themselves here. And what, for the offense of not knowing they’re a criminal?_

_Is his life worth more than your own skin?_

_I know you’re better than that Jango Fett._

Jango groaned and bent down next to the body, burying his face in his hands as his father’s voice rang through his mind. Then, he glared at the body again and reached over to flip them over, praying they were dead. It would be better than whatever Death Watch had in store for them.

A handsome face greeted him when he turned the Jedi over; drenched reddish-blond hair with a matching beard, a strong nose and brow, and pale skin entirely covered in sand. Jango placed two fingers on his neck, searching for a pulse, and, unfortunately, he found one. A weak one, but it was there. Jango swore, cursing the Ka’ra that made his mind up for him.

He unclipped the Jedi’s sword from his belt and clipped it to his own. He knelt down and pulled the man over his shoulders, his back protesting as he stood and took shaky steps back to his cottage.

\---

Once he’d deposited the man on his spare bunk in his back room, he checked him over for injuries. He would have done it sooner but he was too preoccupied getting him away from spying eyes. He pulled off the soaked cloak, draping it over a chair, and pulled off the Jedi’s boots and outer robes, leaving him in his leggings and undershirt. Bloodstained the perfectly white material, torn at his side from the injury. Jango took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing his hands to stay steady as he peeled back the shirt.

A shrapnel injury. Jango had seen plenty of them in his younger years. His boat must have been attacked and he got caught in the crossfire. He breathed out slowly through his nose as his shaky hands reached for the medkit he brought with him. He opened the kit and pulled out the bandages and the tweezers and—

Myles was yelling in his ear, trying to pull Jango away from Jaster. Jango barely heard his pleas for him to leave him and go, they were outnumbered, they had to retreat. He shook off his friend and pressed harder on his father’s side, willing the blood to stop flowing from the wound, as if he could stop his life force from bleeding out—

Jango shook his head, shaking away the memory from years past. He cleaned away the sand from the wound and pulled out the large piece of metal shrapnel buried in the Jedi’s side. By then, his hands had stopped shaking, and he stitched him up neatly and covered the injury with a healing balm and bandages. Myles always said he had the neatest stitches out of all of them.

Jango leaned back with a sigh, watching the Jedi’s stomach steadily rise and fall. He’d done all he could do; it was up to the Ka’ra now if he lived or died. He cleaned the sand out of his beard with the same rag he’d used to clean his wound and combed his hair out of his face. _There, he ought to be a little more comfortable before he woke_.

Then he stood, making sure to close the door to the back room on his way out. He didn’t have that many visitors, but he wasn’t going to take any chances if he did. Once he was back in his kitchen, he realized the Jedi had distracted him from his earlier chores and he sighed once again, putting on his now bloodstained jacket and heading back down to the beach.

\---

Jango returned a few hours later, four fish in tow, double what he would normally catch. He had a guest now and he wasn’t going to be a bad host and not feed his guest. He could almost see his father’s approving nod at the thought.

He peeked into the back room once he’d set down his dinner. The Jedi hadn’t moved but the sheets still rose and fell steadily with his breath. He was still alive. With a wound like that, he’d need to rest for quite a while.

Jango cleaned the fish while his stove was heating, pulling out his meager supply of spices and seasonings once they were prepared. He set the fish on his pan, listening to the meat sizzle and pop, and he heard a muffled groan come from his back room. The Jedi must be awake.

He made his way to the back room and slowly pushed open the door. The Jedi was laying stock still on the cot, acting as if he was asleep, but Jango saw his breath hitch when he stepped in the room.

“I know you’re awake, _jetii_ ,” he said.

He thought he saw the tips of the Jedi’s lips quirk. “Ah, well, my cover has been blown.” He opened his eyes and brilliant blue eyes struck Jango right in his chest. “I don’t suppose you’re going to fatten me up before you kill me?”

Jango regained himself and snorted. “I'm not going to kill you. But I see you’ve done a good enough job yourself.”

The Jedi smiled at him this time, a hand on his bandaged side. “Yes, I suppose I have that habit.”

“Food’s almost ready if you’re hungry,” Jango said, pointing a finger toward the kitchen. “I’ll bring it out to you. No need for you to make your injury worse.” He turned as if to go back out, but faced the Jedi once more. “I'm Jango by the way. Jango Fett.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi. Pleased to meet you, Jango Fett.”

Jango paused, waiting to see if the Jedi— _Obi-Wan_ —had any more to say, but just nodded and left for the kitchen.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that the name meant nothing to him.

\---

Dinner was a quiet affair, though not as quiet as Jango was used to. He brought Obi-Wan and himself a fish and helped the other man sit up in the bed. He was surprised by how much Obi-Wan wanted to talk. He complimented him on his cooking ability and Jango had just grunted in reply, not used to making small talk— _at all_. He asked him about his occupation (farmer, fisherman, general sore spot for the local government) and why he lived where he did. Jango didn’t have an answer for that one. (Well, he did, but he didn’t know how to _say_ it.) He ended up just saying that he didn’t like to live close to other people, to which Obi-Wan just nodded, seeming to understand.

It was…nice actually, having someone to talk to after so long of living by himself. Obi-Wan didn’t ask any prying questions and even though he stayed awake only for a couple of hours, Jango found himself enjoying his company.

But then he shook his head as he washed his dishes. Obi-Wan couldn’t stay, hell, no one could know he was _here_. Once he healed, he had to go.

Jango nodded to himself, determined. Everything would be fine and his life would go back to normal once the Jedi left.

It had to.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this, consider leaving a kudos/comment! if you want to see more, hmu on tumblr or twitter @/catsnkooks


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